


your comforts i forsake

by helveticaraiser



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Enemy Lovers, M/M, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 04:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20901647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helveticaraiser/pseuds/helveticaraiser
Summary: “I care not for your comfort. I absolutely detest it.”“And yet you respond to it so nicely, even in your last moments. I’m convinced that you’re a terrible liar, Hubert.”Ferdinand kills his beloved. It’s a bit of an awful affair on both sides.





	your comforts i forsake

**Author's Note:**

> *crosses legs* have i finished fe3h? good question! no. i just did the golden deer route and now that school has crept upon me i have little time to advance in other routes. but this is my world and i do what i want, so if i want to make ooc sadfics for the drama of it all, then i will do it with no regrets.
> 
> title is from a song called [please don’t ruin this for me](https://youtu.be/5Jkc7kW_LvU) by tennis

It all happened so embarrassingly quickly—Ferdinand, with his long, sunset-hued waves flowing ever so majestically behind him, came toward him on his horse at a terrifying speed, and all Hubert could remember feeling was Ferdinand’s lance cutting right across his chest. Hubert gasped, clutching at his chest as he struggled to stay on his feet. Ferdinand dismounted his horses and walked towards Hubert, who was torn between staggering backwards or forwards until Ferdinand hugged him.

He _hugged_ him, with no care about how the massive amounts of blood would stain his clothes and armor. Hubert tried to protest, or make some kind of snide remark, but all that came out was a gurgle that only caused him to cough up more blood to land on the other man’s silver shoulder plate and dribble down his own chin. Ferdinand held him closer, hands clutching at his back so tightly that Hubert couldn’t help but notice it and revel in it. Then he felt another surge of pain—a dagger that Ferdinand had hidden somewhere on his person was now dug halfway through his chest, and Hubert couldn’t help but laugh. Despite the nauseating taste of copper on his tongue, despite the fact that he was struggling to keep his eyes open and alert, he _laughed_. He kept laughing as Ferdinand’s head was nestled between Hubert’s neck and shoulder, just like he used to do before he had betrayed the Empire and joined the Blue Lions.

The _Blue Lions_ of all people. The betrayal was both confusing and infuriating, and Hubert failed to grasp how Ferdinand, as hopelessly, endearingly clueless as he was, could ever do such a thing. As much as he teased him, never did Hubert legitimately believe that Ferdinand was a total _idiot_ until he had gotten word that he had been spotted with his former professor. Ferdinand couldn’t be like normal students and had joined the Blue Lions five years ago like other students had, no, he decided to join them when he suddenly disappeared the night before the return to Gronder Field. It was the deepest betrayal that Hubert had ever experienced—and his life was riddled with betrayals and traitors, most of which he had considered friends and occasional lovers—when he saw Ferdinand standing proudly with the professor and that wretched Dimitri, holding that disgusting blue flag high for his opponents to see. Hubert remembered the look on Ferdinand’s face, the way he stared at just about everyone but the man he had claimed to love more than anything.

Needless to say, Hubert was a man scorned. And yet he couldn’t resist his hand as it slowly rose to tangle its fingers in Ferdinand’s hair. Ferdinand only held him tighter.

“I wish it didn’t turn out this way. It truly pains me to see you this way,” his dearly beloved whispers, his voice heavy. 

“I care not for your—comfort,” Hubert croaks, gloved hands clutching at the hair he adored so much. “I absolutely—detest it.”

Ferdinand laughs wetly. “And yet you respond to it so nicely, even in your last moments. I’m convinced that you’re a terrible liar, Hubert.”

“If you continue to spread your mucus on my person, I may have to—take this dagger out and—“ Hubert has to take a moment to gather himself, as he’s been struggling to now choke on his own blood for a while now. He heaves, and he feels Ferdinand’s hand on the back of his head. He finishes, “—and kill you my—self.”

“You would not do such a thing,” Ferdinand whispers. His hands are still on Hubert’s body, holding him as if he were going to fade away at any moment, and Hubert hates it. He hates that he feels colder yet Ferdinand seems to cancel it all out, giving him that warmth that Hubert tried his best to forget about. Ferdinand keeps sniffing and his fingers keep twitching as if they’re trying to move elsewhere but they’re glued to Hubert’s black attire. Hubert feels his own strength seeping from him, as it has now reached the point where he’s only support to stand right now is Ferdinand’s trembling body.

“If you were more of a reasonable person, then it would not have ended up this way,” Ferdinand’s obviously crying now—Hubert doesn’t have to see it to know. “I would not have had to kill you. You and I could have lived a peaceful life together.”

Hubert tries to laugh again, but he coughs up more blood instead. It’s torture, living for so long when he clearly should be dead in his beloved’s arms by now. “You could have easily let that—precious—p-professor of yours kill me instead. You—you _chose_ to do this. But I’m glad. I’m glad that it was—you. If I am to die by anyone’s hands that—weren’t Lady Edelgard’s, I’m glad that it was by yours.” 

And this obviously affects Ferdinand, because he takes in a deep breath and releases a wail that wracks through his whole body. Hubert’s hand leaves Ferdinand’s hair and slither down to his own body, right to the hilt of the dagger. With the last of his strength, he pushes it deeper into him, and Ferdinand pulls back in a panic.

“What are you _doing_, Hubert, **_stop it_**—!”

“I am doing what you are obviously too afraid to do. I’m doing you a _favor_.” Hubert grunts, using both of his hands to twist the hilt. Ferdinand grabs the hilt, hands wrapped over Hubert’s own, and almost pulls it out, but he freezes, eyes wide and wet. Hubert smirks, his bloodied, gloved hands leaving the dagger and coming to rest on Ferdinand’s cheeks and pulling him close for a kiss. It’s soft, delightfully warm, and Hubert is glad that it’s the last thing he feels before he slips away.

Hubert’s body is heavy, his full weight against Ferdinand, who is desperately holding onto him as if it would bring him back for even a few more seconds. 

He starts to wonder if this path was as just as he had believed it to be.

**Author's Note:**

> as usual, kudos/comments/criticism is appreciated. i’d leave my twitter here but i don’t need my mutuals know that i live like this. stay iconic my fellow gamers


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